


Demon Eskel

by OneofWebs



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Body Modification, Bottom Eskel (The Witcher), Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bratty Eskel (The Witcher), Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom Eskel (The Witcher), Dom Lambert (The Witcher), Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Dubious Consent, Eskel has both sets of genitals, Eskel has goat legs and horns, Eskel is a sex Demon, Humiliation, Jewelry, Licking, M/M, Male Lactation, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Pregnancy, Punishment, Self-Lubrication, Sex Magic, Switching, Top Eskel (The Witcher), Top Lambert (The Witcher), Vaginal Sex, pissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 07:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Eskel is a demon. More importantly, he's a sex demon, which means he not only feeds from sex, but he can do just about anything required to make it good. Whether that's good for himself or good for his partners is often times left up to debate, but thankfully, often enough, what's good for him and good for his partners means the same thing. That's the joy of having two Witchers for his pets.[This is nothing but actual raunchy filth.]
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Demon Eskel

**Author's Note:**

> So like normal ths is pre-tagged for the whole thing, but the second part is coming. You can always hit up my tumblr to find out how to get things faster, cuz they do come faster, just not here.
> 
> I tend not to believe in dub-con but i tagged for that cuz i think that's how most people would see this. As an explanation, some things are done without prior consent but when brought to light there is definitely consent. That's too long to tag so you see what i did.
> 
> notes about pt2 will be in pt2 so stay tuned. hope you enjoy!

Outside, Eskel looked the same as any human because he _had_ to. Magic helped him look that way, and magic helped him look the way he was meant. That, he only revealed when he was safe within walls, rooms with locked doors. Inn rooms sufficed every now and again, when his need got so bad, they couldn’t wait another moment without a proper feeding, but Eskel still preferred the walls of Kaer Morhen. He didn’t have to hide during the winters here, because no one was around to see him but Lambert and Geralt.

They knew what he was. They knew what he was, and still, they brought him here. They’d met together in Novigrad and made the trek up for the winter _together_. Every night had been something warm and pleasant, though Eskel hadn’t been himself. Here, though, he could be himself. The magic wilted away the moment he began to dismount.

By the time Eskel hit the grass, he was a different man. He wasn’t a man at all. Instead of boots, he had hooves at the very end of long, fur-covered legs. He had nothing more than a wrap of fabric around his hips, stark red in color. His skin was no longer a tanned color, either. In this true form, his skin was purple. There were white circles inked into him, over his chest and his shoulder, down his arms. His eyes were still a piercing yellow, but his pupils were rectangular and sideways.

Eskel didn’t wear a shirt. Instead, he wore a massive, golden necklace that draped around his shoulders and down his chest. Two of the sparkling chains connected to the golden rings pierced through his nipples. Because of that, he didn’t bother with a shirt. Ever. He never changed form, not truly. He just _appeared_ differently, even to Lambert and Geralt. It always made the return to Kaer Morhen more exciting, because the moment Eskel removed the magic, he could feel their eyes on him.

“Nice to be home,” Eskel rumbled, stretching out his arms. He took those first few steps forward, away from the horses, to stretch out his legs. Winter was clear with the nip in the air, but Eskel was never cold. Not unless he wanted to be.

His ears were lined in little golden studs. Even with the extra space having long, pointed ears allowed for, Eskel stuck to a modest six studs in each ear. His hair was long, dark brown—the same color as the fur around his legs. Protruding from the sides of his head were two massive, dark horns. They were curled over on themselves like those of a ram.

“Nice indeed. Thinking about getting some food.” Lambert had his eye full of Eskel in his proper form, then dropped down off his horse. They’d been traveling for half the day. He was tired, and he was hungry.

Eskel frowned. “Food? That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Lambert nodded. “Yeah. Some of us eat real food. You hungry, Geralt?”

Geralt was already taking Roach towards the stables. They only had the two horses, Roach and Lambert’s. Geralt clicked his tongue for Lambert’s horse to follow, and she did. He didn’t give any real response to that of food, but that was to be expected. Geralt always gave his attention to the horses first and Lambert second. That wasn’t too abnormal, but once he had the horses dealt with, he rejoined Eskel and Lambert in the middle of the yard.

“Food sounds great,” Geralt said. “See what we still have left over. Need to get supplies soon enough.”

Eskel groaned and folded his arms. His displeasure was obvious, as it wore right on his face. His golden chains knocked together, creating just enough of a noise that Geralt and Lambert looked at him. And neither of them did anything.

“Hungry,” Lambert repeated. “Come eat with us.”

He walked right by Eskel and towards the grassy hill. Geralt followed, which meant Eskel had no real sway here. He could—if he wanted—snap his fingers and have his way. But not yet. They were Witchers. It was always a bit harder to get them under control. Usually, they had to partially submit to it all on their own for magic to happen. If they continued to deny Eskel what _he_ needed, he may just have to snap those fingers. They wouldn’t mind. And if they did, he’d fix it later.

Geralt and Lambert ate food, but Eskel ate something far less easy to come by. It was something more like _essence_. And they weren’t giving it to him. He’d been practically starving since they’d been on the road. The last time he’d had either of them was in Novigrad, and that was practically a month ago. They ate every day, but he had to wait until it was convenient. Kaer Morhen was perfectly convenient, and Eskel was ready to find his feast in one of those nice, tall bedrooms.

Until then, Eskel was going to be good. As good as he could manage. He knew that Lambert and Geralt could smell him, no matter how they wanted to pretend that they were unaffected. Eskel was a monster of the sentient variety. The variety, even more specifically, that thrived off of _sex_. Beyond that, the only thing that mattered was how much he could have and in what ways he could have it. Except he wasn’t having _any_. He was walking after his two Witchers, who despite the arousal they could no doubt smell, were more interested in their stomachs.

Eskel’s hooves made loud, clopping noises against the stone floor of the main hall. Louder than usual, too, because he was angry. He had expected to be practically dragged right into the nearest crevice, and instead they were preparing dinner. He could wait. Eskel was nothing if not patient. He’d waited the entire trip up here, sufficing on nothing more than heated kisses and desperate ruts. He could wait another hour or two, he thought.

That was until, quickly, he realized that those two hours were spent just waiting for them to cook something. They’d gone with some spectacularly hearty stew. While nutritious and warm, it took hours. By the time they were even sitting down, Eskel was fuming. He’d made himself scarce while they cooked, sitting at one of the long tables. Lambert and Geralt eventually joined him there. _Eventually_. Sitting down where Lambert took up a seat at the head of the table like he deserved it, and Geralt sat across from Eskel.

“You alright?” Geralt asked, looking at Eskel.

“Just _fine_ ,” Eskel responded, leaning forward onto the table.

Geralt gave a light smile. “Know you’re struggling. Appreciate letting us eat, at least.”

Eskel felt something in his chest flutter. Geralt knew just the things to say to make him happy, to the point where it was nearly ridiculous. Eskel didn’t have to deal with this. He was a _demon_. He was nearly eight feet tall and hulking; these two Witchers couldn’t take him down, simply because they didn’t want to. He’d been with them for nearly a year, now. Time and time, they did exactly what he wanted and allowed Eskel to do _anything_ in return.

“Maybe I could try some,” Eskel muttered, glancing over to Lambert. Lambert hadn’t bothered to say anything nice, and his lips did look delectable.

Eskel shifted where he sat, trying to ignore his growing arousal. But it was always there. There wasn’t a time of day or place where Eskel wasn’t ready for something. His cock was half-hard, kept in control only by the wrap skirt around his hips. It was his cunt that caused more issue, swollen open and dripping with slick. His thighs were wet. He was sure the bench he sat on was wet, too. His tail swished back and forth, and Eskel continued to stare at Lambert.

“You want a taste, have one,” Lambert finally said. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

Nobody _was_ stopping him. The problem was that both Lambert and Geralt thought that Eskel had miraculously developed a stronger taste for human food. They were offering him a taste of the stew, but Eskel took an affirmative as an affirmative without bothering for correction.

Suddenly, Eskel was snapping his fingers at Lambert alone. Geralt had at least been nice, so he could sit by and _watch_. He wouldn’t dare do anything. Their weapons were away. If Geralt really thought Eskel was a threat—which he didn’t—their lack of weapons made vulnerable Witchers. Once that snap was made, Eskel pushed himself up from the table and moved around. With his final shred of decency, he moved Lambert’s bowl of stew out of the way before he hopped himself up on the table instead.

“You’re so hungry?” Eskel said, working his skirt open. “Then _please_ —” Eskel spread his legs around Lambert, bracing his hooves on the arms of the chair. Lambert was looking at him, eyes glazed over but _intense_ , nonetheless.

Eskel’s wrap skirt fell away, and he put himself entirely on display. Lambert’s eyes cast down naturally. He was overcome, taken with Eskel’s spell _and_ the smell of him. The look of him. Eskel’s cock was hard against his thigh, and he was a mess with his own slick. Witchers thought they were so strong, so above magical influence, but they were both as weak for Eskel as they were anything else. Lambert’s breath hitched in his throat, but then he was leaning forward.

Lambert put his hands on Eskel’s thighs, right where the fur turned to skin. At the touch alone, Eskel shivered, but then Lambert was finally close enough that his breath ghosted over Eskel’s cunt. He was wet enough, but that sudden warmth had him shaking where he sat. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. While he was using one hand to support himself on the table, the other one curled back through Lambert’s hair and yanked him closer.

When Lambert’s lips finally pressed against the folds of his cunt, Eskel cried out, head lulling back. Lambert lapped at him, licking right through his slit and tasting over his dripping hole. Eskel held Lambert’s head right there, rocking his own hips as best he could against that tongue. The warmth of Lambert’s mouth alone was something to get off on, but Eskel wouldn’t be satisfied. Eskel pulled on Lambert’s hair, bringing him impossibly closer.

With each swipe of Lambert’s tongue, Eskel groaned. He could feel Lambert’s lips moving against him, his _chin_ with the scrape of his beard. Eskel was trembling, hooves scraping along the arms of the chair. Lambert lapped at him like a starved man. Eskel was dripping with his own slick, and Lambert swallowed it. Tasted it. He groaned against Eskel, and that alone sent a new shock of pleasure up Eskel’s spine. He tilted his head back, lulling to the side so he could look at Geralt.

Geralt was just watching, idly spooning stew into his mouth. He glanced between Eskel and Lambert, moving fervently between Eskel’s thighs. Eskel’s cock was entirely ignored, achingly hard against his thigh. Lambert’s tongue was all he wanted, all he _needed_. He could go without his cock being touched. His back arched, and Eskel swallowed down a great heap of air as Lambert’s tongue worked over his clit.

“Fuck,” Eskel gasped. “Keep going, just like that—” His breath hitched, and his hips bucked. Instead of tugging and forcing, Eskel was just petting through Lambert’s hair now. A gentle encouragement. He practically took himself off the table each time his hips moved, and Lambert _still_ continued.

He sucked around Eskel’s clit, tonguing the thick, swollen bud in his mouth. Everything about Eskel was massive. His clit was just the perfect size to fit in Lambert’s mouth. Lambert took advantage of that, dropping his jaw open widen and just _moving_ against Eskel’s cunt. He tongued over Eskel’s clit, flicking at it until Eskel couldn’t control his own shaking. He still just stroked back through Lambert’s hair, groaning out this and that, nothing but pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” Eskel managed out. “Fuck—need _more_. Lambert, sweet little thing, _more_.”

Two contradicting orders, but Lambert was sinking back into his own head. He moved, slipping down the length of Eskel’s slit and licking through him. In the same movement, he brought his hand over from Eskel’s thigh to press against his mound. All Lambert did was gloved thumb over Eskel’s clit, but that had him struggling for air. His chest heaved with his breath, the heat of it taking over him. Lambert’s tongue worked through his folds, right through the crease of his labia before moving through his slit again.

Eskel’s grip in Lambert’s hair suddenly went tight as Lambert’s tongue passed over his hole. He was _dripping_ , sopping. So wet, and Lambert was just tasting, working through the slick and teasing around the rim of Eskel’s passage. Eskel could feel everything, from the swipe of Lambert’s tongue to the scrape of his beard and the touch of his thumb. Lambert worked Eskel’s swollen clit between his fingers, rubbing and squeezing. Eskel didn’t know how much longer he would last, but he was suddenly feeling full.

Lambert was hard, aching between his thighs. As long as Eskel’s spell held him, he couldn’t pay attention himself. Eskel fed off of it, that pure arousal that poured off of Lambert. Even more so, Eskel was just warm; so proud of himself knowing that Lambert was all his, focused on him.

His thoughts broke off instantly as Lambert’s tongue pressed inside of him. Eskel cried out, groaning low in his throat. Deep baritone. Nothing more than a rumble. Lambert’s tongue worked deeper and deeper, until Lambert was pressed so close against him that _everything_ worked against Eskel’s cunt. Eskel tilted his head down, trying to watch, trying to feel. He was panting, clenching up and struggling to relax as the pleasure flooded through him.

Suddenly, he felt Geralt’s hand against his own, just rubbing right over his wrist. It helped, and it made everything worse. Eskel wanted _more_. He wanted more, more—always more. Even as Lambert moved against him, all Eskel could think about was how much more he wanted. Everything was cresting, pleasure mounting through his body all at once. Eskel couldn’t catch his breath, didn’t want to. He dragged his hand through Lambert’s hair, groaning as Lambert’s tongue worked inside of him.

Eskel bucked against Lambert’s tongue. Lambert lapped at him, fucked him with it. Worked his tongue over every inch that he could reach, lapping at Eskel’s clenching walls and the slick that he dripped in. Eskel tipped right over the edge with a deep cry, head rolling back and back arching. When he came, he came hard. Eskel’s cock gave an abortive twitch, suddenly leaking. There was a new rush of slick on top of him, one that Lambert lapped at and swallowed.

Before Eskel’s orgasm had even _finished_ , Lambert was pulling back. The sight of him had Eskel groaning, instantly. He was a mess. Aside from the fact that Lambert’s lips were red, there was slick over his mouth, dripping down his beard. Eskel couldn’t take his eyes away. Couldn’t stop staring, breathing—his own jaw just slightly agape. This was a sight he wanted implanted in his mind for the rest of his days; Lambert looked so strung-out, _covered_ in Eskel’s own arousal.

“Really just couldn’t wait, could you?” Lambert asked, raising an eyebrow.

 _Fuck._ Eskel had let the magic go at some point and not even realized. And Lambert had kept _going_ —ruined him with that orgasm. Now, Lambert was standing. Eskel could see the slick messed over one of his gloves, and that had Eskel shuddering all over again. Lambert hadn’t had a chance to take them off, and now he didn’t even bother with it. That leather had been on Eskel, rubbing tantalizing and torturous circles over his swollen clit.

Lambert grabbed Eskel by the tops of his thighs and had him flat on his back in one hard tug. The table shook briefly under Eskel’s weight, and though he could have just gotten back up, resumed his place _in control_ , he didn’t. Eskel just laid there, his arms spread out and thighs spread around Lambert’s hips. Another tug, and Eskel cleared that last bit of space between him and the bulge in Lambert’s trousers. It was so apparent, though still tucked neatly away.

Eskel rolled his hips, grinding his cunt into Lambert’s cock. The leather of those pants right up against the skin of his cunt had Eskel groaning. He could feel everything beneath, just how hard Lambert was for him. Maybe it’d been the magic, or maybe Lambert just liked being used that much. It didn’t matter. Eskel didn’t care. He had to have it.

“Fuck me,” Eskel ordered. “Don’t care how, just _fuck_ me.” Eskel then tilted his head to the side, reaching out for Geralt. “Got all night,” Eskel managed out. He could feel Lambert getting his codpiece open, working his cock out. “Take care of you, too,” Eskel promised, curling his fingers over the side of Geralt’s face.

With one sharp slap of Lambert’s hips, Eskel’s attention was stolen right back. Eskel was already so wet, so open. All Lambert had to do was shift forward, and he slid right inside. Eskel reacted immediately, a loud groan and back arching against the table. Lambert didn’t waste any time, either. The moment their hips were flush together, Lambert pulled back at the start of a hard, fast pace. He grabbed Eskel’s legs, hoisting them up over his shoulders.

Eskel latched his ankles around Lambert’s neck, pulling him forward. He rocked into Lambert’s thrusts, groaning each time their bodies slapped together. He wanted more. As much as Eskel wanted, he would always want more. Lambert fucked into him, through him. The size of Lambert’s cock was just barely enough, but Eskel kept his magic to himself. Instead, he lost himself in the feeling. The throbbing against his walls and the precum from Lambert’s prick, it all left him shuddering.

“Harder,” Eskel gasped out. “ _Harder_.”

Lambert complied, leaning forward to brace himself on the table. Eskel bent to accommodate, showing off just how perfectly flexible he was. He could practically taste how good Lambert felt, how perfectly aroused he was. It was just a precursor for the evening, but Eskel was living for every second of it. His back arched with every new, pounding thrust. He groaned, reaching out so he could get his hand on Geralt. Geralt, who was just happy to _watch_.

“Fuck—” Eskel managed. “Gonna get you both in bed. Remind you who you belong to.”

Geralt even offered him a smirk, cupping his own hand around Eskel’s to bring it up to his face. Eskel watched, jaw agape with deep, throaty noises as Lambert rammed against him, as Geralt sucked his thumb between his lips. That had Eskel shuddering, a new groan right from his throat. He pressed his thumb into Geralt’s mouth, practically fucking him with it. It was big enough—everything about Eskel was massive. Geralt sucked on his thumb, never taking his eyes off Eskel. Not even when Lambert’s grunts turned into growls.

Eskel clenched down around Lambert’s cock, crying out as Lambert only fucked him harder. There was no finesse, no rhythm, just the hard slap of Lambert’s hips as he grew closer and closer to his orgasm. Every pass of his cock was more than enough, so _much_. Eskel was made for this, sensitive from the start to the end, hips bucking down to meet these wild thrusts.

“Inside me,” Eskel demanded. “Come inside me. Show me what a good pet you are, Lambert—” Eskel broke off in a groan as Lambert gave him one more painful thrust. It was hard enough that Eskel shifted on the table, crying out and arching as he felt that first rush of spend. It left him shuddering, crying out. He dragged his nails through the wood of the table, continuing to rock his hips down. He took everything Lambert had to give him.

When Lambert finally pulled back, cock already going soft, Eskel groaned. He went limp against the table, pulling his hand back from Geralt’s mouth. He just rested for a moment, breathing. He needed just a moment to gather himself, and then he was sitting up. He didn’t care about the mess he was making. His cunt was still wet, his cock still aching. The night was only just beginning.

“Find me in the bedroom later,” Eskel said, reaching out to take Lambert by the chin. “Both of you. Want you naked and ready to do as your told. Is that understood?”

Lambert nodded, swallowing. When Eskel peered over at Geralt, Geralt gave the same response. With that, Eskel moved off the table. He left his skirt behind and walked through the hall naked, tail swishing behind him and hooves clacking against the stone floor. Both Geralt and Lambert watched him go, and only they did they bother to finish their meal.

The first thing Lambert and Geralt both did as they entered Eskel’s chosen room was disrobe. While Eskel had specified he wanted them naked upon _arrival_ , even he understood that Witchers could get cold. The room was warmed by the fire, and it was always a treat to get to watch them undress. They did so quickly and without show, folding things neatly and placing them on the desk set off to the side. Eskel lounged on the bed, already in a heap of pillows.

His legs were spread out so they could see just how wet he was. Eskel was never ashamed of himself. Already, his cock was straining against his hip. Thick, long. No cumbersome balls beneath, just a neat thatch of dark hair. Without even needing to speak, the display he made out of himself beckoned Geralt and Lambert closer, into the bed with him. They crawled in on either side of him, but Eskel had a _preference_ for the moment. He ignored Geralt entirely and grabbed Lambert.

Lambert stumbled forward, right into Eskel’s lap. Immediately, they met in the middle. A hot, sloppy kiss as Eskel licked into his mouth. Lambert groaned tilting his head to the side, shifting closer. All at once, Eskel pressed at his chest. Once Lambert was back and properly controlled, Eskel sat up straighter.

“Did you think I was just going to let you fuck me again?”

Lambert swallowed, but he nodded. His cock was already hard, standing tall between his thighs.

A chuckle, then Eskel spoke. “Silly pup,” he said.

Eskel reached straight for it, cupping Lambert down to his balls. A gasp stole from Lambert’s throat, and his hips rolled into that touch. From the side, Geralt was just watching. He struggled not to reach for his own cock at the sight before him. Eskel trailed his finger along Lambert’s perineum, then down the back of his balls, drawing a ling over them straight to the base of his cock.

Once he reached Lambert’s cock, Geralt could see what he was doing. A purple line followed Eskel’s finger, embedding itself into Lambert’s skin. It followed all the way up to the head of Lambert’s cock where the rest of the rune formed. Only then did Lambert realize what was happening, as the shock of pleasure took him. He shuddered, leaning forward to brace himself on Eskel’s shoulders. When he looked down, he _saw_ what Eskel did to him, and the groan out of his throat was almost involuntary.

“Need you all night,” Eskel said. “Can’t have you going soft on us, can we?”

Lambert couldn’t even come up with a response. Controlling himself was hard enough without having to thin. The heat that thrummed through his body was unbearable. Everything was shaking, on _fire_ with a new height of pleasure. At the sight of him, Eskel suddenly reached for his cock and started to stroke himself.

“Promised me a feast tonight. I want to fuck Geralt,” Eskel said, looking right at Lambert like Geralt wasn’t even there. “Want to fuck him open and fill him. Can you get him ready for me?”

“Y-yeah,” Lambert managed out. His voice felt strange. He glanced over at Geralt, who was still just _there_ , lounging against the bed and trying to ignore the way that Eskel objectifying him didn’t go straight to his cock.

Without glancing at Geralt, Eskel continued. “Work him open for me. Use your fingers until he can take your cock, and then _fuck_ him. Be a good pet. Give me a show.”

Lambert didn’t waste a second getting over to Geralt. He grabbed Geralt by the legs, pushing him down to his back and then yanking him forward. Geralt’s cock jerked under the sudden treatment, yanked around like he was nothing. From beside them, Eskel groaned, making no subtlety out of the fact that he was watching and stroking his cock at the sight. Breathless, he watched as Lambert spread Geralt’s legs around him, then leaned over him to slot their lips together in a kiss.

Geralt arched up against him, and they both groaned into their kiss. Reaching up, Geralt threaded his fingers through Lambert’s hair and tugged him down harder. The resounding groan was enough that Lambert’s lips parted, and Geralt’s tongue was in his mouth a moment later. As did their tongues, their bodies rocked together. Lambert rocked his hips against Geralt, rutting their cocks together. Everything about Lambert was just warm, like Geralt could feel the magic radiating off of him.

It left him near breathless as Lambert pulled away. Geralt laid himself out, arms spread and panting. Being without touch for those mere seconds was painful, but Lambert’s hands were on his chest in the next. The touch went from his neck down to his chest where Lambert stopped. Palming over his nipples had Geralt jolting, his head tilting to the side so he could look to Eskel. Eskel was still watching them, hand around his dripping cock.

As Lambert pinched at his nipples, Geralt’s back arched and he groaned, hips rolling. Their cocks brushed together, and then Lambert’s hands were moving again. Down, down, he traced over scars, until Lambert’s hands were resting on his hips.

“Need oil,” Lambert said.

“No,” came Eskel’s deep, commanding voice. “You don’t, pup. Trust me.”

Lambert shuddered. He looked at Geralt, who swallowed and nodded. Eskel grinned widely at the sight, both of them so willing to just go for it. Dry, raw. Eskel couldn’t keep his own moan in his throat. The arousal they were sharing was enough to keep him fed for days, but he was here for a _feast_. Eskel let his fingers trail down over the base of his cock and down to the split of his cunt. His other hand waved in the air a quick dose of magic.

Suddenly, Geralt’s back was arching and he was crying out. Something jolted through him, left him feeling wrecked and _wet_. When he hit the bed again, he was panting and breathless. With eyes half-lidded, Geralt missed as Lambert moved down between his thighs. He only felt the consequence of it, Lambert’s fingers dragging along his balls and down the strip of skin beneath. Geralt shuddered at the touch, gripping his fingers into the sheets below.

As Lambert’s fingers brushed Geralt’s hole, Eskel was the one who moaned. He hooked his fingers under his heavy hood to find his clit, then squeezed the swollen bud between his fingers. Eskel’s hips jerked forward, and he just groaned again. He didn’t have to make a command; they both knew what he wanted.

Geralt spread his legs just the slightest bit wider as Lambert pressed a finger into him, and it was _wet_. That magic had left Geralt a sopping mess, and Lambert’s finger pressed into him so easily. Just the one wasn’t enough. Geralt rolled his hips, fucking himself down onto that one finger. All he could manage was a groan, no words from his throat to ask for more, but Lambert didn’t keep him waiting. One finger slowly became two, and Lambert pressed those into him harder.

“Sounds like a whore,” Eskel hummed, leaning back into the pillows. He was so taken with his own fingers around his clit that he didn’t need to watch. “Oh, Geralt, how badly do you want to bounce on my cock?”

The moan from Geralt’s throat was strangled. “Bad,” he responded, and it was all he could say. At that moment precisely, Lambert crooked his fingers inside of Geralt and left Geralt shaking.

Right up against his prostate, Lambert rubbed his fingers. He worked little circles over Geralt’s walls before pressing deeper, stretching his fingers out wide to work Geralt open. It was taking all of Lambert’s strength not to touch his own cock; it ached. Precum leaked from the tip, more than ever had before. Another one of Eskel’s tricks, he suspected, but he loved it. It was like he could feel every pearly drop against him, and the pleasure worked right through his hips.

“Fuck,” Lambert groaned. “So fucking wet, Wolf. Really are gonna let Eskel turn you into a whore, aren’t you?”

Geralt’s response was a strangled groan. His hips bucked down onto Lambert’s fingers, and Lambert rewarded him well with another crook in deep, right over his prostate.

Lambert just continued, unable to help himself. “Gonna let him fuck your ass like a loose little cunt.”

Even Eskel shuddered at the sound of Lambert’s voice. He trailed his fingers down lower, leaving his swollen clit alone to ghost through his labia. Right at the moment Lambert worked in a third finger, Eskel cried out louder than Geralt—like he could feel it himself, and his hips bucked. He suddenly rolled to his side so he could lean over top of Geralt and swallow those sounds, lips pressed together. Geralt grabbed him, a hand through his hair and one latched onto his horns.

Such a sight had Lambert groaning. His fingers twitched inside and outside of Geralt with the urge to touch himself. Instead, he gripped his nails into Geralt’s hips and worked his fingers all the faster. Each fuck inside displaced more slick. Geralt was dripping in it, wet with whatever magic Eskel had used on him. It just enticed Lambert further, working his fingers inside. And the _squelch_. Geralt jerked beneath his ministrations, groaning against Eskel’s lips.

“He’s ready,” Eskel said in a gasp. He cupped the side of Geralt’s face, caress down his cheek. “Tell Lambert how badly you want his cock, pet. I want to hear you beg.”

Geralt groaned. His body jolted on its own, working down onto Lambert’s fingers. He wouldn’t get any more than just fingers if he didn’t beg, and Eskel was looking at him expectantly. His jaw was open, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck me,” Geralt managed out, his voice rough and rasping. “Lambert, need you—need you inside me.”

“Am inside you, Wolf,” Lambert reminded, then crooked his fingers once more. Geralt jolted underneath the sensation, back arching and hips bucking. Lambert knew just how to work those fingers to leave his body thrumming and hot. Geralt panted out, trying to come back to himself as Lambert changed his pace

Lambert started to fuck on with his fingers, working them in and out fast and hard. It wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Geralt was feeling empty. Three fingers would never be enough. When Lambert moved against him, Geralt could feel his cock. It burned against him. Lambert needed this just as bad as he did, and neither one of them would get it if he couldn’t muster his words up. Geralt groaned, then let his eyes close.

“ _Please_ , Lambert,” he rasped. “Fuck me. Need your cock. Need it inside of me. Can’t get off without a cock in me. Your cock—Lambert, fuck me. Fuck me, _please—_ _”_

Eskel suddenly groaned, surging up onto his hands and knees. His hooves dug into the bed, and he shuffled back because he wanted to watch.

“Fuck him,” Eskel said. “Oh, Lambert, he needs you so badly.” Eskel reached down between them to grab Lambert’s cock, and Lambert stuttered.

He pulled his fingers back and shamelessly wiped them on Geralt’s thigh. When Eskel finally let go of him, Lambert was shaking. Still, he worked himself between Geralt’s thighs, spreading them out around him. The rune was practically glowing, an ever-present reminder that Eskel had done something to him. Made him so achingly hard that he would be like this all night. At first, he ground himself against Geralt, working the length of his cock through Geralt’s cleft.

“Fuck,” Geralt drawled out. “Lambert, stop—please. Just—fuck me, fuck me. Need you inside—”

“Love listening to you beg, Wolf,” Lambert groaned. “Take good care of you.”

Geralt shuddered. Whatever it was he wanted to say died right in his throat as Lambert finally breached him. It was slow, achingly good, as Geralt spread open to accommodate the weight of Lambert’s cock. Lambert’s cock was just thick enough to fill him, long enough to leave him gasping for his breath. When their hips finally pressed together, Geralt jolted beneath him. Spasmed and clenched, Geralt’s back arched and he groaned.

“So fucking perfect,” Eskel groaned. “Oh, my pretty pet.” He stroked the side of Geralt’s face. “Made to take cock. Take my cock right after.” Then, he pushed up and went to Lambert instead, who had already started to rock his hips.

“Don’t come,” Eskel whispered, right up against his ear so his lips brushed the shell. “You won’t like what happens if you do.”

Lambert couldn’t contain the groan out of his throat, the stutter of his hips. He was going to try his hardest not to, but with the way Geralt was already spasming around him, he didn’t know if he’d be able to. Eskel pulled back so he could watch, and Lambert tried to focus. He hunched over top of Geralt and braced himself with his heels in the linens. He rocked his hips forward, and immediately, Geralt cried out.

Finding purchase in the sheets, Geralt rocked down to meet each one of Lambert’s sudden, hard thrusts. They rocked together, each caught up in their own special type of pleasure. Eskel had ruined them both, leaving Geralt feeling so wet and open while Lambert was irrevocably hot, aching. Geralt arched himself up, trying to get _more_. This incessant need controlled him. Lambert reached an arm around him, keeping Geralt arched off the bed and using that to fuck into him harder.

“More,” Geralt rasped. “Lambert— _more_ , fuck, I—”

“Gonna come?” Lambert mocked. “Just like this? Fucked on my cock?”

Geralt nodded hurriedly, no words on his tongue. He just rocked his hips down to meet Lambert’s thrusts, groaning each time Lambert fucked through him. The thrusts were full, long—each time, Lambert nearly slipped right out of him, but breached him again. Again. Slick leaked out of Geralt’s hole and down his skin, leaving a mess on the sheets beneath them. As Lambert fucked into him, Geralt could feel how he opened and stretched to take it.

His whole body shook with it, thrumming with pure, raw pleasure. Lambert’s cock filled him so perfectly, and still, Geralt couldn’t help but tilt his head to the side to look for Eskel. Eskel was lounging in the pillows again, his fingers still working through his cunt. No matter what mess Geralt had made, Eskel made a worse one. His cunt was spread open and swollen, leaking slick down into the linens. He was so caught up in his own pleasure, feeding off of everything that Lambert and Geralt gave him.

“Close,” Geralt rasped, finally looking back to Lambert. “Fuck me, fuck me—” His back arched, and with Lambert’s hold on him, he hardly even had to move.

Lambert forced him down to meet every hard, merciless thrust. Geralt could feel the way Lambert throbbed inside of him, the unreal heat from his cock. It left him shaking, groaning out from someplace deep in his throat as the pleasure began to overwhelm him. Lambert’s own thrusts began to stutter. Each thrust was backed with the strength of his entire body until they both fell against the bed, and then it was just useless, perfect grinding.

Wrapping his arms around Lambert’s neck, Geralt welcomed Lambert against his own. He felt teeth, lips, enough to keep him groaning and his hips working. He clenched down around Lambert, walls spasming as everything began to crest over top of him. When his orgasm came, Geralt couldn’t have stopped it, even if he tried. It rushed through him, leaving him groaning out loud and shaking. His cock spurted between their bodies.

“Fuck” Lambert groaned. “Fuck— _fuck_ —”

Geralt was so tight around him. The pressure was almost too much. It was too much. Lambert groaned against Geralt’s neck. Unable to stop his orgasm, Lambert just let it take him. His hips bucked, and he came right inside of Geralt. Filled him up, fucked through it as his hips continued to jerk. When Geralt groaned, Lambert could feel it through his throat. The undeniable pleasure that took him as Lambert thrust through his own spend.

“Lambert,” Eskel suddenly rumbled, and Lambert knew he was in trouble.

“So sorry,” Lambert panted, pushing himself up. “Couldn’t stop myself. Tried to. Eskel, please—”

“Don’t want to hear your sorry excuses. I know _exactly_ what Geralt feels like.” Eskel crawled forward, and he had both of their attentions. They watched the way he moved, how his muscles rippled beneath his purple skin. His glowing, yellow eyes. “Tight little whore. I know it’s hard, but I _asked_.” He caressed the side of Lambert’s face. “Wanted you to come inside of me,” he whispered, and Lambert shuddered.

All at once, Eskel was pulling Lambert back. Geralt cried out with the force at which Lambert left him, slipped right out as he was pushed down to the bed. Eskel crawled right over Lambert, straddling over his waist. When Eskel sat down, Lambert could feel how wet he was. It made him shudder, left him weak. As Eskel grabbed his arms, Lambert didn’t fight back. He let Eskel pull them over his head and whisper words of magic. After, Lambert found he couldn’t move his arms, like they’d just been frozen against the sheets.

Eskel moved off of him then. Another snap of his fingers, and Lambert found himself gagged. Pulsing, purple magic wound down from his wrists where he was trapped, circling his arms, and then through his lips to keep him quiet. Lambert struggled against the bonds, but part of him didn’t _want_ to escape them, not as they continued to spread down his body. Eskel left him like that, ignored him entirely for shifting back towards the head of the bed for Geralt.

The bonds curled down Lambert’s body until they reached his runed cock. One of the tendrils wrapped around the base of his cock while the other worked around his balls. All at once, they both squeezed, and Lambert’s entire body jolted. Pain. All he felt was pain, but he couldn’t escape it. He writhed against the bed, eyes closed tight as he tried to fight back this urge to cry. He couldn’t cry anyway—it didn’t matter, but the pain was there. Just enough of it that he began to shake.

“That’ll keep you under control,” Eskel said.

Then, he grabbed Geralt and pushed him up. Geralt let himself be manhandled up onto his hands and knees. _He_ was going to be good for Eskel where Lambert seemed to refuse it. He wanted to be good, wanted to let Eskel do whatever he wanted, and Eskel wanted him just like this: positioned between Lambert’s spread thighs. Bonds held Lambert open like that, so he was perfectly on display, still shaking as the bonds squeezed around his junk.

“Nice view, don’t you think?” Eskel hummed.

Geralt nodded. “Want—want to suck his cock,” he muttered.

“How fucking nasty.”

Immediately, Geralt shuddered.

“You want to lick your own fucking slick off of him? Want to make sure he’s clean?” Eskel snorted, mocked. “Ready to bounce on his cock again already. Might even let you do it, watch you writhe on top of him until he’s begging to come inside you again.”

Suddenly, Eskel pulled Geralt back against his chest. Geralt had never been a small man, but pressed against this massive demon, he looked small. At the sight of it, Lambert shuddered and groaned. The pain was beginning to subside in favor of _pleasure_. The words Eskel used went straight to his cock, and even with the tight grip around the base of it, he still leaked with precum.

“Pathetic,” Eskel spat. “My two stupid little pets. You’re mine, Geralt,” Eskel growled right against his ear. “You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you? Show me how much better than Lambert you are. Brats don’t get fucked. Are you a brat?”

Geralt shook his head. “Be good for you,” he groaned out. He rocked against Eskel, whose massive cock was nestled between his cheeks and against the small of his back. The feeling of it left Geralt shuddering, and then he was being pushed forward.

He only barely caught himself on his arms, suddenly eye-level with Lambert’s straining cock again. As much as Geralt wanted to swallow around it, lick it clean, he controlled himself. He wouldn’t do a thing that Eskel hadn’t told him to do, and that alone had Eskel groaning behind him. Massive hands settled on his hips, and Eskel rutted his cock through Geralt’s cleft.

“My wet little slut,” Eskel crooned. “You like feeling like this?”

Geralt nodded helplessly. He could feel Lambert watching, Eskel’s eyes boring into his back. It was almost too much, and still he wanted _more_. Eskel reached around him, fingers ghosting along his cock, and Geralt jolted. He was still hard, even after his orgasm. Sensitive. Eskel’s touch was enough to have him moaning, hips bucking. He tried to grind back into Eskel’s cock, but Eskel had some expert control over himself. Though his hips bucked forward, he didn’t let out a single sound.

“Show me how good you are,” Eskel said. “See that mess on Lambert? That’s _mine_. How wet _I_ am. Want you to clean it up, taste me as I fuck you.”

Geralt shuffled forward. When he leaned down, Lambert’s cock brushed against his chest, and Lambert’s own muffled groan rang out. Hard as it was, Geralt ignored him in turn for doing what he was told. He arched his back to show himself off for Eskel, who rested his hands over Geralt’s cheeks to pull him open. As he felt the head of Eskel’s cock against his stretched, abraded hole, Geralt started to lap at the mess on Lambert’s stomach.

“Such a good pet. Always do what you’re told. Have to teach Lambert, won’t you?” Eskel hummed to himself, rubbing himself through Geralt’s cleft and moaning.

No response came. Geralt couldn’t muster one, but he groaned against Lambert’s skin as the taste of Eskel’s slick hit his tongue. Finally, Eskel started to move forward. With his thumbs pressed into Geralt’s hole to pull him open, the slide inside was so easy. Geralt moaned as Eskel worked into him. His cock was so thick, long enough that Geralt swore his stomach began to bulge as Eskel pressed against his ass. At that point, Eskel stilled inside of him just to groan.

“So tight inside you.” Eskel bent down over Geralt, pressing kisses against his shoulder blades. “Want you to beg for me,” he muttered. “Want you to beg to be allowed to come. Beg to get your mouth on Lambert’s cock. Know how badly you want it down your throat.”

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned. He couldn’t manage the words, not at first. That left him with Eskel’s hand tugging through his hair, forcing his face back down into the leftover mess on Lambert’s stomach.

“Clean it,” Eskel growled. Then, he bucked his hips. That first thrust was had enough that Geralt lurched forward, groaning.

He mouthed along Lambert’s skin, cleaning the rest of Eskel’s slick from him. When he’d finally finished his task, Eskel wrenched him right back against another bruising thrust. That hand never left his hair, tugging at the strands until his scalp began to hurt.

“I told you to beg, pet,” Eskel said, his voice still rough. “Beg, or you’ll be in worse straights than Lambert.”

Geralt shuddered in return. As if to prove how bad it would be, Eskel had the bonds tighten around Lambert. Even through his gag, Lambert cried out. Tendrils squeezed around his cock and his balls hard enough that it hurt, and the pain jolted through him. Lambert trembled through it; his eyes closed tight like he would be blinking back tears. Geralt watched him, and instead of pain, he jolted through that first touch of fear.

“No,” Geralt gasped. “No, no—please. Don’t want that. Want to be good for you. Eskel, _please_ , fuck me. Hard, fast—want to be so open I’m ruined when you’re done with me.”

Eskel’s groan came out strangled and wrecked. He grabbed Geralt by the hips and really started to use him, pulling him back to meet each hard thrust. Geralt could feel Eskel’s cock fuck straight through him, all the way to his lungs where each time they collided, Geralt found it hard to breathe. He was groaning, crying out with his back arched and his head rolled back. Lambert was staring at him, trying to work past his own pain just to enjoy this—the look on Geralt’s face. Fucked out and wrecked.

“Want to—come on your cock,” Geralt gasped out. “Know that I can. Don’t need you to touch mine.”

“Useless, isn’t it?”

Geralt groaned, nodding as he fell forward into Lambert’s hips. “Useless,” he agreed. “Don’t need it. Fuck me—fuck me. Harder, harder.” Geralt broke off into a babble, rambling off his pleas and his begging as Eskel only worked into him harder.

Each time Eskel slapped against him, Geralt lost more and more of himself. He was so open, so stretched. Eskel left him feeling perfectly stuffed, and it was a feeling Geralt didn’t want to let go of. Wanted _more_ of it, if possible. All he could do was groan against Lambert’s hips, dragging his hands over Lambert’s body like it might ground him. He could feel Lambert’s cock bobbing against his chest, straining and leaking even through the pain. The rune kept him hard and wanting.

“Let me—” Geralt gasped. “Want to suck Lambert’s cock,” Geralt continued. “Oh, _fuck_ —” Eskel breached through him hard, fucking right over his prostate and leaving him shaking.

“Need a cock in your mouth?” Eskel teased. “Such a fucking whore. Take good care of you, don’t worry.” He leaned over Geralt, pressing his chest to Geralt’s back.

He grabbed Geralt’s head and positioned him, himself, working Geralt right down over Lambert’s cock. Lambert jolted all at once. The warmth of Geralt’s mouth and the pressure around his cock combined to make everything too much. Lambert keened, whined behind his gag, but he wouldn’t get out of this. He deserved it. He’d been bad, and now he had to face his consequence. He took it in stride, groaning as Geralt started to suck around his cock.

Eskel smirked over Geralt’s shoulder, looking right at Lambert. “Going to take _such_ good care of you,” he whispered. “Won’t even know it until it happens.”

Geralt moaned around the weight in his mouth, his eyes practically rolled back into his head. He felt so good like this, impaled from both ends. Lambert’s hips bucked into his mouth, and Eskel fucked into him from behind. So hard his body jolted forward, and Geralt’s arms gave out beneath him.

He rested there and took it, every thrust of Eskel’s cock. He felt so open, so _ruined_. His pleasure was mounting quickly, an orgasm creeping up through the heat of his body. Geralt could hardly muster the focus to suck Lambert’s cock. He just let it rest in his mouth, against his tongue. Lambert practically fucked him, regardless, his hips working up wildly in a desperate search for pleasure instead of pain. The binds continued to tighten around him, but he fucked into Geralt’s throat regardless.

When Geralt came, he pulled back off Lambert’s cock to let the noise out of his throat. It took him by surprise, and he groaned. He worked back against Eskel’s cock, rubbing it into his prostate as his orgasm shook through him. Eskel fucked him through it, moaning himself as Geralt clenched down around him. He didn’t come. Instead, as Geralt’s orgasm finished, Eskel pulled back and wrenched Geralt over to the side, flopping him down on his back.

“See how easy that was?” Eskel barked. “Don’t have to come in a whore just because he’s tight. Make him work for it.”

Eskel shifted over between Geralt’s thighs and snapped his fingers, forcing Lambert’s bonds to tilt his head, make him watch as Eskel crowded over top of Geralt. Geralt’s thighs were spread around him wide enough to hurt, and Eskel had a hand in Geralt’s hair to tilt his head back.

“Let go,” Eskel told him. “Show me what a good puppy you are for me. Such a perfect, pretty pet. Better than Lambert, aren’t you?”

Geralt shuddered, nodding.

“Do everything you’re told. Want to _please_ me. Let go, Geralt. My pretty little wolf.”

Geralt did exactly what he was told, and Lambert watched with wide eyes as Geralt shuddered and moaned. His cock jerked and released, a sudden stream of piss. It felt so good, letting go like that, and it just kept coming. The feeling of it left Geralt flushed, humiliated, but he couldn’t stop it once it’d started. Urine streamed over his hips, through the crook of his thigh, and made a mess on the sheets below. When it finally stopped, Geralt didn’t stop trembling.

Eskel mouthed along his chest, up to his neck where he kissed up to Geralt’s jaw, over his cheek, until Eskel finally planted another kiss right to his lips. Geralt moaned into it, arching his back so perfectly against Eskel. When Eskel pulled back, there was just the slightest whimper from Geralt’s throat that had him grinning.

“Such a good boy,” Eskel told him. “Good boys deserve rewards.”

“Thank you,” Geralt gasped. “Thank you—”

“What does my good little boy want?”

“Want you inside me. Fuck me—come inside me, Eskel, _please_.”

Eskel nodded, a grin on his lips. He pushed back so he could line his aching cock up with Geralt’s gaping hole. With how wet Geralt was, how open, Eskel slipped right inside of him. The pleasure was immediate with how sensitive Geralt was, but he didn’t complain. He just moaned, back arching and head rolling back as he took the whole length of Eskel’s cock back inside of him. Eskel shuddered, groaning as Geralt clenched around him.

“Fuck,” Eskel muttered. He was suddenly overwhelmed with his own feeling of emptiness. He fucked Geralt, but he couldn’t help his glance over to where Lambert was still tied up and strung out, just for him.

“Know why you’re such a whore,” Eskel continued, hunching down over Geralt to rut into him. “Lambert’s cock—so good. Need it inside me. _Fuck_ ,” Eskel moaned, then broke off into some language neither of them understood. Eskel rolled his neck, rolled his shoulders as the pleasure started to take him.

“Let him fuck you,” Geralt rasped. “Know how bad you need it.”

Eskel shuddered. “So bad. Can’t—can’t think.” All at once, Eskel snapped his fingers. The bonds on Lambert didn’t disappear, but his gag did. That was all the permission Lambert needed.

“Gonna fuck you,” Lambert suddenly said, his voice rough and rasped. “Know how bad you need a cock inside you, Eskel. Talk so big, but you’re just as much a whore as Geralt. Need your pretty cunt filled up. Never enough for you.”

In response, Eskel’s hips worked harder into Geralt. His cunt suddenly ached with this need to be filled, clenching down and quivering as he listened to Lambert’s words.

“Need me.” Lambert sounded so sure of himself. “Need my cock inside you. Only one who knows how to take you apart, leave you fucking useless. You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Eskel nodded. “I would,” he gasped, his thrusts starting to stutter. “Want to warm you cock. Want it inside me. Want everything I can have—fuck, _fuck_.”

As Eskel tensed up, so did Lambert’s bonds. He groaned, shifting as the pain was near unbearable. His breath came out strained, panted, but he didn’t stop.

“Get you down on your knees,” Lambert managed. “Keep that fucking mouth around my cock all day. Watch you fuck yourself on your fingers. Try to _earn_ my cock somewhere else. Make you work for it. Know you’d let me. Talk all this big talk, but you want someone to put you in your place. Want _me_ to put you in your place.”

Eskel _moaned_ , then. He did. He wanted it so badly he couldn’t contain himself. His hips fucked forward once, twice before Eskel finally lost himself. He came inside of Geralt, pressed so deep into him that he could _feel_ the bulge in Geralt’s stomach. He traced it with his hands, massaging it and pressing down to make Geralt moan again. His cock spurted, weak and used, but Geralt came with him. They rocked together until Eskel finally finished coming.

When he pulled back, there came a rush of slick from Geralt’s hole. He was stuffed so full of it, too much to hold inside. But the rush that came with it was pure arousal, pure essence for Eskel to steal and swallow. The taste of it left him shuddering, but he regained himself right after. Then, he snapped his fingers to finally free Lambert.

“Fuck—!” Lambert cried out, going limp against the bed. He barely had the strength to move, but he managed it, rolling over to his side and up onto his elbow. “Sit on his fucking cock,” he ordered. The way they both shuddered in response had Lambert groaning, himself.

“It’s too much,” Geralt slurred, but Eskel cupped the side of his face.

“Need you,” Eskel said. “Need you inside me. Gave you _so_ much, can’t you do this for me? Be my good puppy?”

That went straight to Geralt’s cock, though it only twitched uselessly against his hip. When he nodded, Eskel did the rest. A snap of his fingers, and Geralt felt like he’d left his own body. Magic rushed over him and pooled in his stomach. Geralt’s eyes flashed the same color as the rune on Lambert’s cock, and after, he was still and quiet. Eskel moved over him and sat right over his suddenly straining cock.

“Lambert,” Eskel called. “Over here, _please_. Need you to be good to me.”

Lambert scrambled up and moved across the bed. By the time he was there, Eskel had already eased himself down over Geralt’s cock. Geralt was left shuddering, and when Lambert’s cock pressed against his, he groaned out and arched. Eskel stroked the side of his face, whispering little encouragements. He leaned over Geralt to brace himself, position himself so Lambert could _see_ were Geralt disappeared inside of him. Instead of his cock pressing through, Eskel felt fingers against his swollen lips.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Lambert told him. “Such a pretty demon.”

Eskel shuddered. The praise shot right through him, and he practically gushed with this sudden pleasure. He waved his fingers again, and Lambert was met with a similar urge that struck right through his balls, making them clench up against his body. He groaned, leaning forward with his face to Eskel’s back.

“Fuck, what did you just—”

“Gonna come inside me,” Eskel said. “Both of you, so much. Want to be a fucking _mess_ when you’re done with me.”

“Fucking slut,” Lambert snapped. But he didn’t make Eskel wait a second longer for him.

He lined right up alongside Geralt’s cock and eased into Eskel’s cunt. The way it spasmed around him was something else, and Lambert nearly lost himself right there. Eskel was so wet around them, so tight. He spasmed around their cocks, moaning at the intrusion. He was stuffed so full, stretched so wide. He rocked his hips down against them, and they both moaned. Geralt was gasping beneath him, stilled by the magic but still aware of every ounce of pleasure rocking through him.

“Likes this so much,” Eskel rasped. “My little puppy loves how my cunt feels, doesn’t he?” He stroked the side of Geralt’s face, and Geralt jolted through a nod.

Eskel shuddered in response, feeling Geralt’s hips snap up into him. Lambert’s arms went around his hips, keeping Eskel exceedingly still as he fucked into him. The way Lambert fucked with his whole body, moving fast and hard, left Eskel feeling useless and broken. He pressed his own hand against his stomach, moaning as the pressure overwhelmed him. Lambert worked so deeply into him, grinding against his walls as much as he did Geralt’s cock.

“More,” Eskel groaned. “Fuck—Lambert, I need _more_.”

“Only have one damn cock,” came Lambert’s growl, but he shifted to hold Eskel with one arm.

As Lambert’s fingers worked over his asshole, Eskel arched his back and cried out. His pleas were useless moans of _more, more_ , and Lambert didn’t disappoint him. Two fingers, wet with Eskel’s own slick, worked into him. It still wasn’t enough, but Eskel tried to manage. Tried to just work himself back on everything, feeling how they filled him and stretched him. The arousal they let off fed him, left him just as stuffed as the cocks in his cunt. Lambert fucked so deeply, Eskel could feel the head of his cock against his cervix.

There was so much going on and neither Lambert nor Geralt even _knew_. They would know. And since they were such good little pups, they would let it happen. Eskel could do anything to them, and he knew it. It left him feeling _high_ , as the thoughts passed through his head. All of the things he could do.

“How pretty would my puppy look with a cunt?” Eskel wondered, looking down over Geralt. “Cock’s useless anyway. Seen how you cry when Lambert fucks you. Geralt—” he groaned as those cocks fucked into him. If he gave Geralt a cunt, though, he would lose this. The thoughts just kept _flowing_ ; nothing would stop them.

“Fuck me,” Eskel gasped. “Harder, _harder_. Lambert—”

“I’ve got you,” Lambert promised, right against his back. A third finger worked into him.

As they crooked and twisted, Lambert brushed into Eskel’s prostate. Cock heads worked against that spot in his cunt. All of it combined left Eskel shaking, moaning out as the pleasure started to course through him. He rocked his hips back desperately uselessly, trying to find even more to take inside of himself.

Suddenly, Lambert was wrenching him back. Though Eskel was bigger, Lambert supported his weight against his chest so he could reach around him with that one free arm. Fingers tugged at the chains that hung from his nipples, and Eskel nearly lost himself right there. His cock jerked and spurted, but he wasn’t quite done. Lambert tweaked at his nipple, pulling on a ring instead of the chains.

“Lambert—” Eskel gasped. “Lambert, _Lambert_ —my good boy. Please, please, come inside me. I—”

“You won’t make me,” Lambert growled. “You can wait. Fill you up, then. You make me come, and I’ll pull out.”

Eskel shuddered and kept himself in check. No magic, just the spasming walls of his cunt around Lambert’s cock as he thrust. Geralt came first, not a second later. He cried out, back arching and cock fucking deep as it spurted. There was so, so much. Only more as the shaking of Geralt’s cock set Lambert off next. He came inside of Eskel, the rune on his balls cinching them up once more and emptying out spend he didn’t even have.

The rush of being filled had Eskel coming next. He gushed over their cocks, his own messing over Geralt’s chest, over his neck. They all stilled together for a long moment, just breathing, trying to catch their breaths. Eskel was the first one to moving, pulling himself off their cocks and away from Lambert’s fingers. With his last bit of strength, he settled down against the bed. Though both Lambert and Geralt were wrung out, they looked at him.

With his furry legs spread out, they could see how wrecked Eskel was. His cock was going soft against his hip, but his cunt was swollen and glistening in spend and slick. It all leaked from him, making such an arousing mess against the bed.

“Come here, my pets.” Eskel’s voice was weak, but they listened to him.

Geralt had finally gone soft, but Lambert’s cock was allowed no break under the power of that rune. Eskel gave them their orders, and they listened. As Geralt crawled into Eskel’s lap, their soft cocks pressing together, Lambert settled between Eskel’s spread legs. He watched as Eskel took Geralt’s head into his hands.

“Lambert’s going to take care of us,” Eskel said. “Aren’t you, Lambert? My good boy, my perfect pet—”

“Yeah,” Lambert responded, voice strained. “Take good care of you. Whatever you want.”

“You just rest,” Eskel told Geralt. Geralt did just that, leaning down against Eskel’s shoulder and pressing into his neck. “You’ll feel his cock inside you,” came Eskel’s whisper, “but don’t worry. He’ll be gentle. Need to watch him fuck you again.”

Geralt nodded, but he couldn’t muster up any words. He just wanted to be good, do whatever Eskel told him to do. That included taking it when Lambert pressed against his ass. Oversensitivity left Geralt shaking, but Eskel wrapped him up in his arms and cooed into his ear. Eskel reached down to spread his fingers through Geralt’s cheeks, rubbing at his abused rim as Lambert sunk into him.

Lambert fucked him slowly, pulling back completely each time so that the head of his cock slipped out. Then, he surged forward. Each punch of his hips had Geralt gasping for his breath, moaning against Eskel’s purple skin. When Geralt moved against him, he tugged at the jewelry over Eskel’s chest. It left him shuddering as his nipples were pulled on, already overly sensitive.

Once Lambert set his pace, Eskel moved his hand to grip Geralt’s cock. He didn’t stroke, didn’t move. All Geralt felt was a rush of warmth. Following it, he came. Though he _felt_ the spend spurt from the head of his cock, his orgasm was suspiciously dry. It was Eskel who was left moaning, just enough of a mind to send that orgasm into himself instead of wasting a drop of spend against his skin. Only then did Geralt finally have a chance to rest.

As Geralt’s eyes closed, Lambert pulled from his ass and shifted down to line his cock with Eskel’s cunt again. It was slower this time, but Lambert still worked into Eskel. He leaned forward, resting on Geralt’s body as he rocked his hips. Exhaustion wore on his face, but he just kept moving. He earned it when Eskel’s hand rested against his cheek.

“Feel so good inside of me,” Eskel moaned. “Such a good boy. So strong for me. Fill me up one more time, and you can both sleep.”

Lambert nodded, groaning. His hips bucked, fast and hard until his next orgasm came. There was no way he had anything left to give, but Eskel’s magic ensured that he did. Lambert felt the rush of spend; he left Eskel’s cunt drenched in it as he pulled back.

Eskel kept his promise. Lambert’s cock suddenly went soft, and he could barely manage to get himself down to the pillows. He rested on one side of Eskel while Eskel laid down an already sleeping Geralt on the other side. Before Lambert finally fell asleep, he had a chance to watch Eskel draw another rune. This time, the rune was on Geralt and suspiciously high. The shape embedded into his stomach, ending right before his pelvis like Eskel had left it unfinished.

It stayed like that, and Eskel settled down in the pillows. He had the rest of his night to just _bask_ in the essence still floating through the room. Lambert and Geralt had the rest of the night to sleep, and they took full advantage of it.

**Author's Note:**

>   
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> 


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